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The good old days

“Nostalgia - it’s delicate, but potent. Nostalgia literally means ‘the pain from an old wound.’ It’s a twinge in your heart far more powerful than memory alone. It goes backwards, and forwards… it takes us to a place where we ache to go again.” – Don Draper

So, what years do you consider the good old days? What era do you long to travel back to? Me? It used to be some mythical place between 1870 and 1920. Small towns. Simple living. Sure, you’d work hard during the week but come Sunday you’d stroll down the lane to the bandstand for the local brass band and lemonade. Children playing. A faraway train whistling. The occasional dog bark. The warm summer sun. The perfect life.

Then the realist in me comes out. Smelly dirt roads. No electricity [for the most part in many smaller towns up until the 20s] and raw sewage. Wool clothes in the summertime. Dentists. Brrrrr…..Have you seen dental equipment from the late 1800s?

Not to mention the occasional disease, fever or cholera that would wipe out half a town- daughters, sons, mothers, fathers. Your kid. Your wife. Your best friend.

The slums of New York, 1800s - quick some page Robert Preston and his marching band outfits.

The slums of New York, 1800s. Quick! Someone page Robert Preston and his marching band outfits.

A few years ago I was waxing nostalgic about 1968 to a co-worker who clearly remembered 1968. I’m not old enough to remember 1968 so my romanticism of it was limited to siblings Beatles records, innocence, and gentle hippies.

My co-worker thought I was a bit daft and then proceeded to rattle off what she remembered about 1968: RFK’s assassination, MLK’s assassination, the Democratic Convention riots, rioting in the cities, and the escalation of the US involvement in Vietnam.

You know, the good old days.

Market in Salem, Oregon, circa 1962. Smiles people! Smiles!

McKay Erickson Market in Salem, Oregon, circa 1962. Smiles people! Smiles!

Finding postcards, scanning them, and then adding the occasional snarky comment sometimes feels like cheating. Half the time I have no idea what I’m scanning. I have no historical connection or personal connection to a place.

Postcards are themselves marketing tools – touched up, color corrected, and glamour shots, many taken at dusk or at night. There’s a whole craft to taking a miserable looking hotel and making it look attractive. Take the shot at night, add some sizzle, color collection and you’ve got a nice shot.

I need to set aside my postcards, get out and start exploring more so I can connect better to the past.

Cold case

It’s not all kooky 50s architecture, wacky mid-century motels and obvious nods to Don Draper around here. Let’s get heavy.

Though it hasn’t been updated in more than a year the local crime blog Slabtown Chronicle is still a favorite of mine. A mixture of current crime, history and mayhem, it’s a fantastic read of Portland’s lurid past [especially for saps like me who think "old" means "good old days"].

A couple of years back they posted a grisly piece on an unsolved murder in Milwaukie/Oak Grove. Here’s an excerpt:

On the evening of Friday April 12, 1946 three people walking on the bank of the Willamette river near the Wisdom Island Moorage in Milwaukie discovered a burlap package floating in the river. H.C. Foster of Portland and James and Mary Rader of Milwaukie first thought the package might be a bag of drowned kittens. They fished the package to shore and were shocked to find that it contained the torso of a white woman

Detectives at the time thought the different body parts, found at different locations on the Willamette, were thrown from the Oak Grove Bridge. According to Slabtown Chronicle the case eventually went stone cold.

Last year, Clackamas re-opened the files to the case, amongst others. Here’s what they know:

Details: In the early morning hours of April 13, 1946, the fully clothed torso of an unidentified middle-aged female was found floating in the Willamette River near Oak Grove. On April 14, 1946, the torso’s arms and legs were located in the Willamette River. On October 13, 1946, the corresponding head was found in the Willamette River in the Oak Grove area.

Investigators determined that the cause of death was a blunt force injury to the head. Her head, arms and legs were then sawn off. The body was then wrapped in feed bags and weighted down with window sash weights.

The victim has never been identified, nor has a suspect been identified.

The victim is described as a Caucasian female with brown and gray hair. She was 40-50 years of age, 5’2”-5’4” in height and roughly 125 lbs.

To Report Info: Call the CCSO Tip Line at 503-723-4949 or Det. John Krummenacker at 503-655-8830 or johnkru@co.clackamas.or.us.

The photo at the top of the post are the shreds of clothing found on the woman.

Beginning in the 1940s, The Castle Jazz Band was a big deal in the Portland jazz Dixieland scene, named after the Castle jazz club in Gladstone. Here’s a description of the building from Robert Dietsche’s excellent Jumptown: The Golden Years of Portland Jazz:

In the thirties it was a roadhouse tavern made out of hand-cut stone by an imported French stonecutter, complete with turrets, arched windows, medieval doors, and a tower, which was removed later.

Here’s a shot of the structure taken back in 2005 before it met its demise:

I’ve driven by occasionally and have watched the metamorphosis of the patch of land. According to the planner for Clackamas county that I spoke with a couple years ago, housing was planned for the land. Not a surprise.

As a former editor of a local builder magazine, I’ve seen homebuilders struggle the past couple of years - especially now with the economy. When I worked on the magazine back in 2003 their biggest problem was lack of land to build on. Now? Staying alive.

According to the signage, there are 10 lots available. Only two homes have been built. And damn, what a depressing sight.

Here are the two homes, surrounded by a castle-like brick wall to give the “community” some sort of exclusively:

Here’s the other end:

One of the homes, built in that typical, boring “Northwest Style” stands vacant. Is that a hint of castle motif?

The kicker though is the signage. I just noticed that the faux gated community is called….wait for it…Castle Park. James Kunstler was quoted as saying once that developers like to call the developments they build after whatever tree or land they destroyed. True.


Here’s a closer look at the castle-influenced signage:

Snarkiness aside, I wasn’t terribly upset when the Castle was demolished. It was an eyesore, probably a hangout for lowlifes [I'm sure the neighbors loved THAT] and ya know, people need housing. And I feel for homebuilders - a lot of good people are losing their shirts. But I guess I shouldn’t be so shocked at how non-original and unimaginative the developers were with the land. At least the teenagers smoking pot and drinking booze will now have a nice warm house- and a wall to disguise any shenanigans- to break into and keep warm. It could be called a blueprint of The Atlantic piece last March on suburbs as the new slums. At least the Castle had some history behind it, some weird semblance of culture. Castle Park? Instant slum.

Here’s the Googlemaps view. Photo taken after the castle was demolished but before fence and housing were built:


View Larger Map

Many of the posts on Lost Oregon are neither lost and sometimes not even in Oregon [Vancouver is close enough to fall under my radar].

But, the Monte Carlo is a truly lost relic. Here’s a scan from the early 1960s Portland Fun Guide [loaned to me by Dan at Cafe Unknown which reminds me that I need to get it back to its rightful owner]:

A quick trip to Google revealed that the Monte Carlo burned down in 2002. So says a review on AOL’s CityGuide page:

This WAS my absolute favorite restaurant until the day of my birthday when I had chosen to have my birthday dinner there with my family to only hear on the news that the restaurant was up in flames. I hate to inform you that it is no longer there.

So, looks like the place sadly went up in flames.

Here’s a recent photo of the lot from P is for Picture:

And the Google maps view:


View Larger Map

Yep. Lost.

Lost Oregon Video

So, I’m doing a bit of an experiment with my new Ultra Flip video camera. I’m shooting and editing small films [nothing more than 120 seconds] of mid-century, historical and not-yet forgotten buildings and sites around the Portland metro area.

I might even work up to doing interviews and - gasp- edit them into the footage.

But first I have to buy a tripod.

Yeah, I know. It’s shaky, amateur and not edited very smoothly but I figured if I don’t get something up - even if it’s a bit suck, I never will.

You’ve been warned.

So, the Kellogg Bowl in Milwaukie. Amazing signage [duh] and architecture for a building that’s still very much in use. And everyone loves bowling: seniors, families, and hipsters [many who might be actually bowling non-ironically]. The day we were there [9:30 on a Sunday morning!] the place had a decent crowd and two - three tops - beers on tap: Michelob, Miller Lite and something else.

If I remember correctly, I had friends back in the day who wore bowling shoes - in daylight and in public. I think they were going for the punk/mod aesthetic. Pfttt. They wish. The old dude bowling his ass off on a Sunday morning then going our for a smoke break every 10 minutes is way more punk rock then they ever were.

The cool kids at Portland’s Mid-Century Modern League shot me over a press release announcing a show they’re putting on. It’s a retro slide show performance by “pop-culture humorist” and author Charles Phoenix, celebrating 50s and 60s tourist traps, theme parks, car culture, space age style, parties, holidays and more. Phoenix also promises to bring some Oregon goodies as well.

WHEN: Thursday, October 23rd – 8:00 PM

WHERE: The Fabulous Clinton Street Theater - 2522 SE Clinton St.

Admission is $15

A reader writes:

Back in the late 80s/early 90s, when I was attending PSU, I used to park down toward the end of Water Ave. and walk up the hill on Caruthers to get to my classes. (The uphill trudge was hell, but the parking was free.) Along the way, there was a house that apparently was occupied by deranged artists of some sort. There were weird sculptures in all the windows, an enormous phallus with a cowboy hat over the front door, and a sign that proclaimed the place the “Bates Motel.”

Surely I can’t be the only person who remembers this place, even if it was on an obscure street. The huge behatted dingus should have been kind of a memory-sticker, if nothing else. But looking around online yields no mention of it.

Do you know anyone who would know about this house and its occupants? I’ve been curious about the bizarre artwork ever since, and now I kick myself that I didn’t find out then. I know I didn’t dream it up, as I doubt I could hallucinate something that weird on my own.

Please post in the comments if you have any idea!

Portland Zoo Railroad

I was at a conference a couple months back at the Portland Zoo and between sessions went out to the back area to get some fresh air and Wi-Fi.

Lo and behold the area butted up against the barn for the zoo train. I’d never seen it that up-close before. She still looks great.

I’m fairly certain that I was the only person at the conference more interested in the train than the “web usability” sessions. The train was originally built for the 1959 Oregon Centennial and was called The Oregon Centennial Zoo Railroad.

Here’s a postcard from 1959:

This 30-inch-gauge train takes passengers from its station at the Exposition, through Frontier Village [scans forthcoming] and back, lasting about 15 minutes. It cost about $275,000, financed mainly by the Portland railroads.

Here’s another glamor shot, same era but now branded as the Portland Zooliner:

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